Chapter 4 - The Fall of the Queen
Margaret Parker stepped out of the private elevator looking nothing like the untouchable matriarch who had commanded her elegant living room just thirty-six hours before.
Her designer blouse was wrinkled, her hair slightly unkempt, and the air of haughty arrogance that usually surrounded her had been completely replaced by desperate, animalistic panic. She marched down the glass hallway toward my office, but two burly private security guards stepped into her path, blocking her entry.
“Ava! Open this door right now!” Margaret shrieked, slamming her manicured hands against the glass partition. “You ungrateful, manipulative little witch! What kind of monster freezes a man’s accounts right before his wedding?!”
I didn't rush. I slowly stood up from my executive desk, smoothed down my tailored maternity dress, and walked calmly toward the glass door. I signaled for the guards to step aside just enough so she could look me in the eye.
Margaret pushed past them, stumbling slightly into the office, her chest heaving.
“You think you can play these corporate games with my son?” Margaret hissed, jabbing a trembling finger in my direction. “Ethan loves you! He made a mistake letting his stress get the better of him last night! But freezing our assets? Calling the police?! You’re destroying a family over a petty disagreement!”
“A family?” I repeated, my voice ice-cold as I crossed my arms over my growing stomach. “Is that what you call a mother-son grift operation? You assaulted a pregnant woman in your own home, Margaret. You tried to extort my hard-earned money at gunpoint—metaphorically speaking—and your son stood by and watched.”
Margaret’s face flushed a violent, mottled red. “You provoked us! You refused to invest in your own wedding! You’re just a cold, selfish businesswoman who never cared about Ethan!”
“You’re right about one thing,” I said, stepping closer until she was forced to look up at me. “I am a businesswoman. And in business, when a fraudulent partner attempts to empty the treasury, you don't negotiate. You prosecute.”
Margaret’s jaw dropped. The venom drained from her face, leaving behind a sickly, panicked gray. “What... what are you talking about?”
“The police already have the security footage from your foyer, courtesy of a cloud backup I synced automatically,” I lied smoothly, watching her eyes widen in sheer terror. “Combined with the forensic financial audit Marcus’s team delivered to the district attorney this morning, Ethan is facing federal wire fraud, embezzlement, and conspiracy charges. And you, Margaret? As the primary beneficiary of those offshore accounts, you’re looking at accessory to financial crimes.”
Margaret staggered backward, her knees buckling slightly as she caught herself against a filing cabinet. “You... you wouldn't... We’re supposed to be family...”
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“Your time is up, Margaret,” I said quietly, turning my back on her and walking back to my desk. “Get out of my building before I have security throw you out on the street.”
Without another word, Margaret turned and fled down the hallway, her dignity completely shattered, realizing too late that she had picked a fight with the wrong woman.
